“Happy, Happy, Happy”

Reading a good book makes me happy.  Having an organized, clean house makes me happy.  Going on a date with Jeremy makes me happy.  All of these things (and many more) are okay, but when they become my source of joy I find myself floundering.

When the boys listen, play together nicely, and behave like anything above barbarians, I’m happy.  When they don’t, I find myself questioning everything God has called me to.  I forget that He is my true source of joy and happiness and to put that on anyone else, especially 3 wild little boys, is too much to ask.

Jesus bore my sins because He loved me.  That is something worth being joyful about, even on the unhappy-broken eggs and green hands-kinda days!

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